And a Darre woman does not run from revenge.
This mark, I said at last. It will help me survive this place?
Yes. The Enefadeh wont be able to hurt you unless you do something stupid. As for Scimina, Relad, and other dangers He shrugged. Well. Magic can only do so much.
I closed my eyes and traced my mothers face against my memory for the ten thousandth time. She had died with tears on her cheeks, perhaps knowing what I would face.
Then lets begin, I said.
5
Chaos
THAT NIGHT AS I SLEPT, I dreamt of him.
* * *
It is an ugly, stormcloud-choked night.
Above the clouds, the sky is lightening with the approach of dawn. Below the clouds, this has made absolutely no difference in the battlefields illumination. A thousand torches burning amid a hundred thousand soldiers are more than enough light. The capital, too, is a gentle radiance nearby.
(It is not the Sky that I know. This city sprawls across a floodplain rather than over a hill, and the palace is embedded at its heart, not hovering overhead. I am not me.)
A respectable force, says Zhakka, beside me. Zhakkarn, I know now, goddess of battle and bloodshed. In place of her usual headscarf is a helm that fits her head almost as closely. She wears shining silver armor, its surface a glory of engraved sigils and incomprehensible designs that glow red as if hot. There is a message written in the gods words there. Memories I should not possess tease me with its meaning, though in the end they fail.
Yes, I say, and my voice is male, though high-pitched and nasal. I know myself to be Arameri. I feel myself to be powerful. I am the family head. I would have been offended if they had come with even one soldier less.
Then since you are not offended, perhaps you can parley with them, says a woman beside me. She is sternly beautiful: her hair is the color of bronze, and a pair of enormous wings feathered in gold, silver, and platinum are folded on her back. Kurue, called Wise.
I feel arrogance. Parley? Theyre not worth the time.
(I do not think I like this other me.)
What then?
I turn to look at the ones behind me. Sieh sits cross-legged on his floating yellow ball. He has propped his chin on his fist; he is bored. Beyond Sieh lurks a smoking, pent presence. I had not noticed this one move behind me. He watches me as if he has been imagining my death.
I make myself smile, unwilling to reveal how he unnerves me. Well, Nahadoth? How long has it been since you had any fun?
I have surprised him. It gratifies me to realize that I can. An eagerness fills his face that is chilling to behold, but I have given no command, and so he waits.
The others are surprised, too, less pleasantly. Sieh straightens and glares at me. Are you out of your mind?
Kurue is more diplomatic. That is unnecessary, Lord Haker. Zhakkarn or even I can take care of this army.
Or me, says Sieh, stung.
I look at Nahadoth and consider how the stories will go when word spreads that I unleashed the Nightlord on those who dared to challenge me. He is the most powerful of my weapons, yet I have never witnessed any significant display of his capabilities. I am curious.
Nahadoth, I say. His stillness and the power I have over him are thrilling, but I know to keep my head. I have heard the stories, passed down from previous family heads. It is important to give just the right instructions. He thinks in loopholes.
Go onto the battlefield and dispose of this army. Do not allow them to advance on this position, or Sky. Do not allow survivors to escape. I almost forget but quickly add, And do not kill me in the process.
Is that all? he asks.
Yes.
He smiles. As you wish.
Youre a fool, says Kurue, abandoning politeness. The other me ignores her.
Keep him safe, says Nahadoth to his children. He is still smiling as he walks onto the battlefield.
The enemy are so numerous that I cannot see the end of them. As Nahadoth walks toward their front line he seems tiny. Helpless. Human. I can hear, echoing across the flat expanse of the plain, some among their soldiers laughing. The commanders at the center of the line are silent. They know what he is.
Nahadoth holds his hands out from his sides, and a great curved sword appears in each. He runs at the line, a black streak, and pierces it like an arrow. Shields split; armor and swords shatter; body parts fly. The enemy dies by the dozen. I clap and laugh. What a marvelous show!
Around me, the other Enefadeh are tense and afraid.
Nahadoth cuts a swath through the army until he reaches its general center. No one can stand against him. When he finally stops, having carved a circle of death round himself, the enemy soldiers are falling over themselves trying to get away. I cannot see him well from here, even though the black smoke of his aura seems to have flared higher in the intervening minutes.
The sun comes, says Zhakkarn.
Not soon enough, says Kurue.
At the center of the army, there is a sound. No, not a sound, a vibration. Like a pulse, except that it shakes the whole earth.
And then a black star blazes to life at the armys heart. I can think of no other words to describe it. It is a sphere of darkness so concentrated that it glows, so heavy with power that the earth groans and sags beneath it. A pit forms, radiating deep cracks. The enemy fall inward. I cannot hear their screams because the black star sucks in the sound. It sucks in their bodies. It sucks in everything.
The earth shakes so violently that I fall to my hands and knees. There is a hollow, rushing roar all around me. I look up to see that the very air is visible as it flies past, sucked down into the pit and the ravening horror that Nahadoth has become. Kurue and the others are around me, murmuring in their tongue to command the winds and whatever other terrible forces their father has unleashed. Because of that we are safe, enclosed in a bubble of calm, but nothing else is. Above us, the very clouds have bent, funneling down into the star. The enemy army is gone. All that remains is the land we stand on, and the continent around it, and the planet beneath that.
I finally realize my error: with his children protecting me, Nahadoth is free to devour it all.
It takes all my will to overcome my own choking fear. S-stop! I shout. Nahadoth, stop! The words are lost in the howling wind. He is bound by magic even more powerful than himself to obey my commands, but only if he can hear me. Perhaps he intended to drown me outor perhaps he is simply lost in the glory of his own power, reveling in the chaos that is his nature.
The pit beneath him erupts as he strikes molten rock. A tendril of fiery lava rises and swirls about the blackness before it, too, is swallowed. Tornado above, volcano below, and at the heart of it, the black star, growing ever larger.
It is, in a terrible way, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
At the end, we are saved by the Skyfather. The torn clouds reveal a light-streaked sky, and in the instant that I feel the stones beneath my hands shiver, ready to fly away, the sun peeks above the horizon.
The black star vanishes.
Somethingcharred, pitiful, not enough of a human form to be called a bodyhovers in the stars place for a moment, then falls toward the lava below. Sieh curses and streaks off on his yellow ball, breaking the bubble, but the bubble is no longer necessary. The air is hot and thin around me; it is hard to breathe. Already I can see stormclouds forming in the distance and rushing this way to fill the void.
The nearby capital oh. Oh, no.
I see the broken shells of a few buildings. The rest has been devoured. Part of the land has fallen into the churning red pit; the palace was on that land.
My wife. My son.
Zhakkarn looks at me. She is too much the soldier to show her contempt, though I know she feels it. Kurue helps me to my feet, and her face, too, is blank as she faces me. You have done this, her eyes say.
I will think it over and over as I mourn.
Sieh has him, says Zhakkarn. It will take him years
to recover.
He had no business calling on that kind of power, Kurue snaps. Not in human flesh.
It doesnt matter, I say, and for once I am right.
The earth has not stopped shaking. Nahadoth has broken something deep within it. This was once beautiful country, the perfect seat for the capital of a global empire. Now it is ruined.
Take me away, I whisper.
Where? asks Zhakkarn. My home is gone.
I almost say anywhere, but I am not a complete fool. These beings are not as volatile as Nahadoth, not as hateful, but neither are they my friends. One colossal folly for the day is enough.
To Senm, I say. The Amn homeland. We will rebuild there.
So they carry me away. Behind me, over the next few days, the continent breaks apart and sinks into the sea.
6
Alliances
YEINE. MY MOTHER, murdered by jealousy, grasps my hand. I hold the hilt of a dagger that has been thrust into my own breast. Blood hotter than rage coats my hand; she leans close to kiss me. Youre dead.
You lie, Amn whore, bone-white bitch. I will see all your lying kind swallowed into the darkest depths of
myself
* * *
There was another Consortium session the next morning. Apparently this was the bodys peak season, in which they met every day for several weeks trying to resolve fiscal business before a lengthy winter break. Tvril arrived early that morning to wake me for the occasion, which took some doing. When I got up, my feet ached dully, as did the bruises Id sustained running from Nahadoth the night before. Id slept like death, exhausted emotionally and physically.
Dekarta attends nearly all the sessions, when his health permits, Tvril explained, while I dressed in the next room. The tailor had worked an overnight miracle, delivering me an entire rack of garments deemed appropriate for a woman of my station. He was very good; instead of simply hemming the long Amn styles, hed given me a selection of skirts and dresses that complemented my shorter frame. They were still far more decorative and less practical than I was used to, not to mention constricting in all the oddest places. I felt ridiculous. But it would not do for an Arameri heir to look like a savageeven if she was oneso I asked Tvril to convey my thanks for the tailors efforts.
Between the foreign garments and the stark black circle on my forehead, I barely recognized myself in the mirror.
Relad and Scimina arent required to attendand they often dont, Tvril said. Hed come in to give me a shrewd once-over as I stood in the mirror; by his pleased nod, I evidently met with his approval. But everyone knows them, while youre an unknown quantity. Dekarta asks that you attend today in particular, so that all can see his newest heir.
Which meant that I had no choice. I sighed and nodded. I doubt most of the nobles will be pleased, I said. I was too minor to be worth their time before this whole mess. I imagine theyll resent having to be nice to me now.
Youre probably right, Tvril said, airily unconcerned. He crossed the room to my windows, gazing out at the view while I fussed with my unruly hair in a mirror. This was just nerves on my part; my hair never looked any better.
Dekarta doesnt waste his time with politics, Tvril continued. He considers the Central Family above such things. So naturally, any nobles with a cause tend to approach Relad or Scimina. And now you.
Lovely. I sighed, turning to him. I dont suppose theres any chance I might be disowned if I get myself involved in a scandal or two? Maybe then I could be banished to some backwater land up north.
More likely youd end up like my father, he said, shrugging. Thats the usual way the family deals with embarassments.
Oh. For a moment I felt uneasy for reminding him of tragedy, but then I realized he didnt care.
In any case, Dekarta seems determined to have you here. I imagine that if you cause enough trouble, hell simply have you trussed up and delivered to the succession ceremony at the appropriate time. Though for all I know, thats how the ceremony usually goes.
That surprised me. You dont know?
About the ceremony? Tvril shook his head. Only members of the Central Family are allowed to witness that. There hasnt been one for forty years, anyhownot since Dekartas ascension.
I see. I put aside this information to consider later. All right, then. At the Salon, are there any nobles I should beware of? He threw me a wry look, and I amended myself. Any in particular?
Youll learn that before I will, he said. I imagine both your allies and your enemies will introduce themelves rather quickly. In fact, I suspect everything will happen rather quickly, now. So, are you ready?
I was not. And I wanted badly to ask him about his last comment. Things would happen even more quickly than they had been? Was that possible?
But my questions would have to wait for later. Im ready.
So Tvril led me out of the apartment and through the white corridors. My apartment, like that of most fullbloods, was on the topmost floor of Skys main bulk, though I understood there were apartments and chambers within the spires as well. There was another, smaller Vertical Gate on this level, intended solely for fullblood use. Unlike the Gate in Skys forecourt, Tvril explained, this Gate had more than one terminus; it apparently went to a number of offices in the city below. That way the fullbloods could conduct family business without getting rained or snowed uponor without being seen in public, if they so wished.
No one else was about. Has my grandfather already gone down? I asked, stopping on the edge of the Gate. Like the main Gate and the palace lifts, it consisted of black tiles set into the floor in a mosaic that formed a gods sigil. This one resembled nothing so much as a huge spiderwebbed crack in the floor: an uncomfortably suggestive similarity that made me look away more quickly than usual.
Probably, Tvril said. He likes to be early. Now, Lady Yeine, remember: at the Consortium you must not speak. The Arameri merely advise the nobles, and only Dekarta has the right to address them. He doesnt do it often. Dont even speak to him while youre there. Your task is simply to observe and be observed.
And introduced?
Formally? No, that will happen later. But theyll notice you, never fear. Dekarta wont need to say a word.
And with that, he nodded, and I stepped onto the mosaic.
One blurring, terrifying transition later, I found myself in a lovely marble room, standing atop a mosaic of inlaid blackwood. Three Consortium aidesnot so junior this time, or so surprisedstood waiting to greet and escort me. I followed them through a shadowed corridor and up a carpeted ramp to find myself in the Arameri private box.
Dekarta sat in his customary place; he did not turn as I arrived. Scimina sat on his right side. She glanced around and smiled at me. I managed not to stop and glare, though it took a powerful effort on my part. But I was very aware of the gathering nobles, who milled around the Salon floor as they waited for the Overseer to begin the session. I saw more than a few glances directed toward the private box; they were watching.
So I inclined my head to Scimina in greeting, though I could not bring myself to return her smile.
Two chairs stood unoccupied at Dekartas left. Assuming the nearer seat was for my yet-unseen cousin Relad, I moved to take the farther of the two. Then I caught Dekartas hand movement; he did not look at me, but he beckoned me closer. So I took the nearer seat insteadjust in time, as the Overseer called the meeting to order.
This time I paid more attention to what was going on. The meeting proceeded by region, beginning with the Senmite nations. Each region had its representativenobles appointed by the Consortium to speak for themselves and their neighboring lands. The fairness of this representation varied widely, however, and I could not make heads or tails of how it was organized. The city of Sky had its own representative, for example, yet all the High North continent had only two. The latter did not surprise meHigh North had never been highly regardedbut the former did, because no other single city had its own speaker. Sky wasnt that important.
But then, as the session went
on, I saw that Id misundertood. As I paid close attention to the edicts that Skys representative put forth and supported, I realized that he spoke not just on behalf of Sky the city, but Sky the palace as well. Understandable, then, if unfair; Dekarta already commanded the entire world. The Consortium existed only to do the ugly, messy work of world governance, with which the Arameri couldnt be bothered. Everyone knew that. What was the point in being overrepresented on a governing body that was little more than a puppet show to begin with?
But perhaps that was just the way of power: no such thing as too much.
I found the High North representatives more interesting. I had never met either of them, though I recalled hearing complaints about them from the Darre Warriors Council. The first, Wohi UbmI think the latter name was a title of some sortcame from the largest nation on the continent, a sleepy agrarian land called Rue, which had been one of Darrs strongest allies before my parents marriage. Since then any correspondence that we sent her got returned unopened; she certainly didnt speak for my people. I noticed her glancing at me now and again as the session went on, and looking extremely uncomfortable as she did so. Had I been a more petty woman, I would have found her unease amusing.
The other High Norther was Ras Onchi, a venerable elder who spoke for the easterly kingdoms and the nearer islands. She didnt say much, being well past the usual age of retirement and, as rumor had it, a bit senilebut she was one of the few nobles on the floor who stared directly at me, for nearly the whole session. Her people were relatives of my own, with similar customs, and so I stared back as a show of respect, which seemed to please her. She nodded once, minutely, in a moment when Dekartas head was turned away. I didnt dare nod back with so many eyes watching every move I made, but I was intrigued by the gesture all the same.